


Halloween Hitmen

by melfett



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, prompt, these two boys being cuter than ever, wrenchers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melfett/pseuds/melfett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Wrench dresses as Frankenstein for Halloween, and Mr. Numbers as his Mad Scientist. If only Mr. Wrench could hear how terribly loud his stomps were...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween Hitmen

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off of a little headcanon made by tumblr user rainbow-femme (found here: http://sherlicklives.tumblr.com/post/87550174475/oh-my-god-imagine-numbers-and-wrench-dressing-up-for) and then later added to by tumblr user every-fandom-of-the-rainbow (found here: http://sherlicklives.tumblr.com/post/87701465920/also-with-the-halloween-thing-i-think-its-super). 
> 
> I fell in love with it, and was compulsed to write this ficlet on it! <3 Find me on tumblr, my URL is sherlicklives, and feel free to comment/ask any questions about this or Mr. Wrench/Mr. Numbers. I will gladly answer! :)

It'd been merely two hours into the night of Halloween, and Mr. Numbers' had already found himself with a headache. Head throbbing in the pace exactly the same as the beat of the constant  _stomp, stomp, stomp_ of Mr. Wrench's boots. 

It wasn't a smart idea to let Mr. Wrench dress as Frankenstein for Halloween. 

Of course, Frankenstein was big and heavy, he dragged his body along similar to that of a zombie's, his arms outstretched, frequent moans and groans escaping his plump lips--But the worst of all wasn't those little noises. They weren't loud enough to bother Mr. Numbers, considering the other was deaf and could barely speak a word, but his boots could more than easily hit the ground with such a force that the noise was like the beating of a drum to the shorter man's ears. Every time that Mr. Wrench let another foot fall to the ground in a stomp similar to that of Frankenstein himself, a wide grin would contort his features, and it wasn't difficult to see that he was silently laughing. Enjoying it very much.  _What a big child,_ Mr. Numbers found himself thinking, with a shake of his head once again. It wasn't in his best interest to tell him to stop. Upon seeing the smile on his face, not very often seen (considering most days they were out killing), Mr. Numbers had let it go on, as much as it brought on a pounding headache. 

And finally, he'd had enough. With a growl, Mr. Numbers reached up to hold his fingers in a firm grasp on the muscle of Mr. Wrench's arm, stopping him in place, struggling to meet his eyes. When finally, Mr. Wrench turned, his eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. 

_What?_

Mr. Numbers took the hand from his arm, and began to reply with a soft sigh.

_I have a headache. You've been stomping your damn feet every second for the past two hours._

He knew the response that he'd get. With a wider grin than every other time, Mr. Wrench crashed his leather-covered foot onto the ground once more, tilting his head.

_You mean this?_

Mr. Numbers' hands flew to his ears, a cringe splaying across his features as he nodded enthusiastically, cursing under his breath. A little motion of the lips that the deaf man could easily read to understand just how bothered he was.

_Yes, that. Stop it._

The grin on his lips still present, Mr. Wrench began to stomp some more, in place this time, more than obviously trying to catch the attention--negative or otherwise--from the other man. This was the most fun he'd had in a while, not to mention teasing his partner, and he wouldn't stop it unless the other was brutally injured, or dying. Which frankly was a situation that they'd found themselves in multiple times. 

A string of curses left Mr. Numbers' lips and he smacked against the other's coat a few more times, not affecting him considering his build, just feeling like the taps of a child who wanted something from their parent. Their relationship felt like that, sometimes. 

Until finally, the man felt his ears open up, the throbbing subside for just a moment, his eyelids flipping open as he felt soft, wetness against his lips. His deep, brown orbs were met with the closeness of the other's face, sideburns rubbing slightly against his face as he let himself fall into the kiss, the all so ludicrous yet clever schemes of his hitman partner. Mr. Numbers let his eyes shut quickly, hands reaching farther and farther up until they were effectively curled around the other's neck, to which Mr. Wrench replied with hands curling around his behind. That pest. 

Lasting pecks were scattered among his dark beard as the taller man parted lips, large hands squeezing the other's behind to elicit that  _lovely_ look on Mr. Numbers' face, one that he unfortunately hadn't seen much, along with a slight moan from the other man that hadn't been heard. The smirk curling Mr. Wrench's lips once more as he began to stomp away, back onto their Halloween trail going who  _knows_ where, possibly another house to act like big children in front of families that didn't want their business. And ironically, not knowing that they were not only men but ones that killed as well. It really  _was_ funny, despite the headache that he did have because of the other's bothersome noises, but moment was light and the night was long and he decided not to give a  _damn._ Because he  _was_ having fun.

_Big, Damn, Child, that's what you are._

Mr. Wrench gave him the lasting smirk one final time before he reached down to intertwine his fingers with the smaller hand, nuzzling his hair-ridden cheek to the other's gently, turning to meet his eyes, the grin reciprocated from Mr. Numbers as the deaf man began to sign. 

_And you're my Partner._


End file.
